


If I Fell

by orphan_account



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cockblocking, Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, My First Smut, Sad, Self-Harm, Sexual Tension, Songfic, Suicide Attempt, Unhealthy Relationships, rocky relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-19 09:30:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22142074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A fic where Paul finally falls for John.
Relationships: John Lennon & Paul McCartney, John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 17
Kudos: 34





	1. A Long, Hard Night

**Author's Note:**

> My first smut, written about this time, last year. Currently unfinished but if it gets attention I may work on it?

It had all happened so quickly.

It was late night for John and Paul. The two men sat on the sofa in some dinky hotel room, brainstorming song lyrics with one another. Both of them were pretty frazzled, having gotten little sleep the previous night, and having worked all day. Ringo and George were out doing whatever, leaving Paul and John alone. This wasnt unusual, since they were best friends, having been with eachother through thick and thin, and even when others failed them they could rely on eachother. They just enjoyed each others company.

Through the whole session John couldn't take his eyes off of Paul. He was beginning to feel sleepy, and his mind was wandering off to many places as he watched his best friend write down lyrics on a paper and sing small samples of what the songs may be. His heart ached everytime he heard Paul's stunning voice, and seeing his lips move, forming the words he sang, made John want to kiss him right then and there. However, his brain told him no and his cock and heart told him yes. 

John had been attracted to Paul for a while, and had made advances that were shooed away due to Paul's unmovable heterosexuality. John wished he could somehow break the curse and get just a taste of Paul, because God only knows what little satisfaction he had with his own woman. Paul however, was stern and turned down John every time. John wondered how the hell he could possibly get one little try of his little Macca. Paul pushed these occurrences off many times as John just being desperate for a handie or a quick blowjob, and while Paul being the only one around, was his only option. He had never considered that John had genuine feelings towards him.

Paul noticed John staring, realizing how sleepy he looked. A faint smile came to his face. He set the paper down on the coffee table and turned to face John. "Are you about ready to go to sleep? You seem tired." John gave no response, simply continuing his blank stare. Very suddenly, John's hand slowly inched over towards Paul, Paul's eyes following the movement of the hand all the way to his own... _what the fuck?!_

John had his had on Paul's crotch, his sleepy eyes looking up into Paul's, with a slight smirk on his face and a blush on his cheeks. John's eyes seemed to be twinkling and Paul felt his own chest tighten.

Paul didnt know how to react. They sat there like that for a few seconds, neither man moving an inch, before John broke the awkward silence. "Just one time Macca. I'm so horny right now.. and it's because of you." John put emphasis on the last word. Paul felt a chill run down his spine and his stomach did flips as he looked at John- his best friend- practically palming him in his jeans, telling him that he made him horny!! How was he meant to take this?!

Paul grabbed John's hand, gripping quite hard. He knew how John liked his women: small, frail, submissive. And Paul assumed that's how his friend wanted him to act. Everyone has their type. However, Paul was not going to play the part of some little submissive _boytoy_ for just for John. If they were doing this, they were doing it Paul's way. He was taller than John, heavier, and overall stronger. John was quite skinny, he was more like an elegant deer. John liked to act tough and strong, when truly, he wasn't as hard as he pretended to be.

"Listen John", Paul began, "I'm not a woman, and I sure as hell am not going to let you anywhere near my arsehole." John's face increased in hue, now tomato red, as he swallowed and nodded slowly. The thought of Paul bending him over and fucking him senseless was now entering his mind and he wondered why he had never fantasized this scenario before. "Alright." He managed to choke out quietly, looking up into Paul's eyes.

Paul questioned why the fuck he was doing this. Maybe he could pretend John was a woman.. it would probably be easier to do it that way. Before Paul could make another move, John tugged his arm out of Paul's grasp and clambered off the couch and onto the floor. Paul held his breath as he watched John push the coffee table back and sit in front of Paul on his knees. Paul knew what was coming, and he reminded himself, _it's a woman, about to give me a blow job. Not my best fucking friend._

John's thin fingers worked away and quickly unbuttoned Paul's jeans, which suspiciously had grown tighter. _And he says he's straight,_ John thought to himself. He hummed and he pulled Paul's jeans down to his ankles. Now, right in front of him, was Paul's clothed erection, and it was beautiful. John was literally drooling at the sight. He absentmindedly wiped the drool from his mouth and looked up at Paul, asking if he wanted this without saying a word. Paul understood what John was asking, and he gulped before nodding, giving the permission he was looking for.

John's fingers slipped under the waistband of Paul's boxers, and Paul closed his eyes tightly. John continued, pulling the clothing off slowly, in a teasing manner. Paul just wanted John to hurry up, partially because he was straight and partially because now that he was all hot and bothered he wanted relief. John finally tugged the boxers down fully, letting Paul's almost fully erect cock bounce out. Paul let out a small moan of relief.

John licked a stripe up the underside of Paul's cock, savoring the taste. Paul let out a breathy moan as he opened his eyes to see the sight of his best friend, face flushed, lids heavy, glasses slipping down his nose... he just looked beautiful. Paul closed his eyes again, inhaling sharply. These thoughts were not going through his head.

John licked the tip of Paul's dick, obviously trying to tease him. "Just.. hurry it up John.. fuck.." Paul spat out. John obliged, and put his whole mouth on Paul's cock. He knew just how to pleasure Paul, surely better than any woman ever had, and suddenly it made Paul wonder where John learned how to do this so well. He held onto the sofa and cursed under his breath as John started bobbing his head up and down, taking a bit more of Paul every time. 

Suddenly, in one movement, John took Paul's whole length down his throat, trying hard not to choke. He hoped Paul wouldn't notice the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Paul put his hands in John's hair and dug his fingernails into his scalp. John pulled himself off of Paul's cock and coughed, obviously having pushed himself way too far. Paul's hands were still in his hair and for a moment their eyes met; Paul took one hand and wiped the tears from John's eyes, and caressed his cheek.

John blinked a few times, and neither man said a word. The moment was intense in a way, and nothing needed to be said. John went back to continue pleasuring his friend, Paul feeling hesitant to let him continue. Sure, it felt amazing, but John was pushing himself. He didn't want John to hurt himself.. Instead, Paul decided to control John, keeping his hands in his hair, moving his head for him. John moaned against Paul's cock, causing even more arousal for both of them. John was high on the feeling of Paul's cock in his throat and his hands tugging his hair. 

Paul instinctively bucked his hips, causing his cock to temporarily go deep into John's throat. Paul felt him gag and pulled him off. He felt awful, "o-oh Johnny, I'm sorry, I couldn't-" John shushed him, still trying to catch his breath. He thought it would be a good time to stop the blowjob anyway. He didn't want to have Paul come just from sucking him off. Then it would be no fun.

John climbed back onto the couch and leaned forward, cupping Paul's face in his hands. They looked into eachothers eyes and before Paul knew it, John was kissing him. The kiss was gentle, both men savoring the feeling. It only took a few seconds for it to become more than just soft kisses on the lips. John was biting at Paul's lip and Paul opened his mouth, allowing John to explore with his tongue. It very quickly became heated and passionate, all teeth and tongue, as they battled for dominance. 

As they kissed, John's hand went to Paul's cock, and he began stroking him slowly. John was sensing the hesitation Paul had for actually fucking John, but he still wanted to help get his friend off. Hell, he'd probably have to end up fixing his own problem himself, but even this was amazing. Paul moaned into the kiss, bucking his hips up into Johns hand. John pulled away from the kiss to catch his breath. "F-fuck Johnn.." John licked at Paul's neck, causing Paul to bury his hands in John's hair again. John began to suck and bite at Paul's neck, leaving hickeys that would probably last for a week or two. John bit into Paul's neck hard, and Paul pulled on John's hair. "Johnnn.. John..."

John unbuttoned Paul's shirt and discarded it onto the floor. He moved his mouth down to Paul's collarbone, licking and nipping, making his way to his chest. Paul was moaning the whole time, urging John to continue. "Macca, you dont know what you do to me." John said in between bites and licks. "You drive me wild." Paul was about to speak when there was a distant sound of voices behind the door of the hotel room, and Paul and John both looked at eachother before realizing what was going on.

Ringo and George were back. And they were almost at the door and about to enter the room. Paul struggled to pull up his boxers and pants, and John quickly urged Paul to just go to the bathroom and fix himself up. Paul did, nearly tripping as he stumbled into the small, shitty bathroom. John sat up on the sofa and covered his painful erection with a pillow. George opened the door and walked into the room, with Ringo following behind. "Hey John," Ringo said, before looking at John and realizing what a mess he looked. His hair was tousled, cheeks were flushed, lips were swollen, and his eyes were red from tears. "What the bloody hell happened to you John?" Ringo asked, concerned. George chuckled and shook his head slowly, "He had a woman over, that's what happened." 

John wishes it was as simple as that. "Yeah.. yeah. Go on and laugh. I needed to get off somehow." All three men shared laughter. John had dodged a bullet here, and he looked at the bathroom door, wondering what Paul was doing right now, what he was thinking, if he regretted what they had done.. the shower started up, and John knew what he was doing. Cold shower. He would need one himself, for sure.


	2. Happiness is a Warm Gun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self Harm TW//  
> This is all of the fic that I have written

"...Yes, Cynthia, honey, I'm very busy.. oh, tell Julian I said hi, tell him that I miss him dearly, okay honey? I love you. I miss you. Goodbye, my love." John hung up the phone and exhaled. His hands were shaking and he felt like curling into a ball and dying right there. He took his glasses off and set them on the table, tears flowing down his cheeks. He cupped his face in his hands and sobbed. 

He hated lying to Cynthia. He hated how he treated her and Julian. Cynthia was not a bad woman.. but John made the awful mistake of shagging her and getting her knocked up. Now he was trapped in a marriage, and had a kid. It was overwhelming.. and he did not want it. He knew deep in his heart he did not love them; either of them. Not even his own child.. and when John beat Cynthia and yelled at Julian, he knew it wasn't helping a goddamn thing. Fuck, he was a mess... now his only escape was drugs, getting into fights, and fucking random women.

John couldn't stop sobbing. Suddenly the weight of everything fell upon him, and it was heavy. He thought about snorting a few lines to get rid of the pain for a while, but a new thought crossed his mind..

In only a few minutes John was in the bathroom, razor blade in hand, as he gazed at his own arm covered in cuts, blood dripping onto the filthy white tiles. He could barely breathe, sobs wracking his whole thin body, causing him to shake. He was losing blood, not enough to do any permanent harm, but it surely wasn't doing him any good. He brought the razor to his flesh again and watched as the red line formed and dripped. _I deserve this,_ he told himself, _I deserve to feel pain_.

Ringo knocked at the bathroom door, having noticed that John was hogging the place up. It wasn't easy for four men to share one shitty hotel room, especially when there was only one bathroom. "Hurry it up John, you're not the only one in here ya know." John looked at the door, rage bubbling inside. Whether it was anger at himself or at Ringo, he didn't know. "Oh fucking piss off Ringo, I'm very busy," John choked out, his mind reminding himself he had used the same excuse with Cynthia to cut their conversation short. He gave himself two new punishments.

"John's hogging the loo," Ringo told Paul, who was tweaking with his guitar on the couch. "He told me to piss off. Dont know what the conceited prick could be doing in there for so long. Wanking, probably." Paul stood up and exhaled deeply, before putting his guitar down and bringing his hand to Ringo's shoulder. "I'll deal with it." Somehow, Paul was always forced to be the peacemaker for the other's problems. 

When there was a new knock on the door, John felt ten times more angry than he had before. "Fuck off you cunt! Didn't you hear me say I was busy?" His voice cracked on the last word, and he felt himself shivering intensely as he sobbed harder. "It's Paul..." John looked back at the door. "John, open the door." John felt his heart stop, and he couldn't breathe. In a shitty attempt to clean up his mess he threw the razor into the bin, threw a towel on the floor to cover the blood droplets that had gotten everywhere, and before he could think of a way to cover the assault on his arms the door was pried open. 

Paul stood in the doorway, mouth agape, face pale as a sheet. In front of him stood John, looking almost as pale, shirt and trousers soaked in blood, arm covered in thousands of cuts... John felt ashamed. He couldn't look Paul in the eye. "John! What have you done to yourself?!" Paul cried out, rushing towards him. "Get away from me!" John shouted, pushing past Paul, and in a hurry he rushed out of the hotel room completely, slamming the door behind him. 

John ran, even though he felt like he was going to pass out, even though he could barely breathe, even though he could barely even think. He made his way to the lift and hoped Paul had not followed him. It was all too fucking much... he was losing his head, and he couldn't take this shit any longer. He needed a way to get away from it all, booze, drugs, anything!! And before he knew it himself, he passed out, right in the lift..

When he woke up he was back in bed, and it was as if he had never woken up that morning. He sat up, wincing slightly as he looked at his arm. It was bandaged, blood soaking through the cloth. "P-paul.." he managed to choke out, feeling very weak. The room was empty. John was alone, that was until Paul emerged from the bathroom holding a bloody towel. He rushed over to John when he saw he had waken.

"Oh John.." he said in a tone that was soft, yet had some harshness in it, that of a teacher scolding a naughty schoolboy. John couldn't look Paul in the eyes. "Talk to me, Paul.." he whispered quietly, "sing for me..." 


	3. Help!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst angst angst!! Thank you guys for enjoying this. I've actually been motivated to write more because of this! I wanted this chapter to be a bit longer than the other ones (honestly idk if it actually is though). Please leave more feedback!

It had been a few days since the incident. Shows had been called off. Things went dark for a bit, conversation between anyone was rare. Yet one thing remained the same- Paul did not leave John's side.

Paul's heart ached for his friend. _His best friend._ How could he let John get to such a low point? He felt somewhat responsible, his mind filled with images of their intimate moment together, how he had ignored everything after it happened.

Perhaps he had just been tired that night, or just didn't want to remember, but thinking back, he had realized how strong John's feelings for him were. The other man had such genuine and deep feelings, and Paul couldn't imagine what it must have felt like to have been lead on and left like that, in a time where he needed so much..

However, Paul could not deny that he felt things rising in him that he had never felt before. All these years he had known John as friend, never in his mind had he considered that they could be more, but after that night, he thought back on all the memories they shared..

They were close. So close. Always had been. Now, innocent gestures and times spent together had a new meaning, as Paul thought back on older and more simple times, his heart ached. Why didn't he realize sooner?.. maybe he had known all along but didn't want to accept it.

Yet here they were, John so hurt, physically and mentally, and Paul, the only one there for him. Not even his wife cared to come see him. Just Paul, by his side, cleaning his wounds, holding his hand, brushing his fingers gently through the other man's hair.

Surely, it should be Cynthia, not him. But as Paul looked at his friend, sleeping softly, he felt in his gut that this is where he was meant to be.

As John began to stir from his sleep, Paul made sure he was out of the way- for the past few days, John had been in and out, simply a shell of his former self, so beaten down and weak, so exposed...

John woke, noticing Paul still by his side. Had he been here the whole time? Still? He couldn't remember how many days it had been, but everytime he woke, he saw Paul's face. A sweet comfort, but also another stab at his aching heart.

John couldn't handle everything happening at once: Cynthia and Julian, the shows, Paul practically ignoring that moment they shared, his own resentment for himself.. but now, as he came to, everytime he came to, Paul was there. It was as if fate was taunting him.

John felt all the emotions flood back. All the times he had tried to show Paul how much he cared, how much he loved him, and all the times Paul denied him. His lip quivered as he stared into the eyes of the man he'd known and loved for so long. He finally decided he had to confront him. It was too much to just ignore what had happened.

"Paul?" John spoke quietly, Paul's eyes wandered to John's lips, seeing the way they quivered, the way John's eyes seemed glossed over like he was going to cry. "Yes?.."

"Why are you here?" Paul's eyes widened, "John, what-" he couldn't finish. John sat up, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Do you care? Do you even want to know what I'm going through? Or are you just here because no one else is. I understand. George and Ringo don't care. Cynthia couldn't even be bothered to call." His face was red, from anger, pain? He didn't know.

"Yet you're here. Why? Why?!" John yelled at Paul. This was the side that no one liked to see. This was the John who hated his wife, the John who demeaned his son just because he didn't want him. "You treated me like I was nothing, did that night not mean anything for you? Or was I just another cheap fuck while you're out and about?"

Paul couldn't even begin to speak. "Listen, Paul, I love you. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone. But you hurt me. And I'm not prepared to just forgive and forget. You left me here, and I know you didn't leave my side, but do you know how alone you've left me? All I can do is think about what I've done wrong, what I did wrong, why you dont love me back? I've always been here for you. I love you, dammit, I do!" 

John's thin frame was shaking from his uncontrollable sobs, tears pouring from his eyes, snot dripping from his nose. His eyes moved away from Paul to stare at his own hands. He had said all he needed to say. 

Paul grabbed John by the face, roughly grabbing the other man's cheeks, holding his wet, tear stained cheeks. He had nothing to say to John. He couldn't even begin to think of what he could say in response to the raw emotion and pain John had just released. 

Paul kissed John, not rough, not sexually. He channelled all of what he wished he could say into the kiss. He knew it wasn't enough to make up for all the pain he caused John, but he had no other way of letting the other man know how he felt. John pulled away, and Paul understood. This is how it would be.

Paul let go of John, his eyes lingering on the weak frame of his friend, how damaged he looked, as he took a step away from the bed. "I love you, John." The words slipped from his mouth, Paul meant them, he did love John, but not even close to the capacity that John loved him. But he knew what he felt, and he needed John to hear those words come from him. He needed time.

John stared up at Paul, still wracked with sobs, and he understood. 

《》

Paul sat in the common area of the hotel room, hand hesitantly hovering over the phone. Would it be wrong to call Cynthia? He figured she should know what was going on.. for her own sake, and for Julian's. It would be awful to see her husband again, with scars lying across his arms, without knowing why. 

Paul sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. Why did things have to be so difficult? He decided he should call. One by one, he punched the numbers into the phone. 

"Hello?" Cynthia's voice rang, positive, sweet, radiant. Paul almost choked, wondering how the hell he could break the news. Cynthia and John were like the sun and the moon, totally different in every way. What broke Paul's heart even more was hearing little Julian calling out, "Is that dad?" 

Paul took a deep breath. "Hey Cynthia! It's Paul, just calling in to see how things are going?" He heard her huff in confusion, "I'm great, Jules is great! Where's John? Not to sound rude, but he hasn't called for a few days? Is he alright?" Paul frowned. He couldn't tell her.

"He's fine, just worked himself to the bone. Been really busy for the past few days." He paused, eyes wandering back to the door of John's room. "When he wakes up I'll tell him to call." Cynthia gave a soft "mmm". "Alright, thank you Paul. I've missed you guys, Julian has too." Julian was babbling happily in the background.

"Well, I'll let you go, I figure you guys must have things to work on." Cynthia said softly, almost sadly. "Ah, yeah. Remember, if you need anything, just call Cynthia." Paul hung up. The guilt washed through him, how could he have done that? John needed help. Yet Paul wasn't even able to tell John's own wife that he was recovering from a suicide attempt?

Paul looked again at John's door. He hugged himself, longing for comfort and warmth, everything had just made him feel so cold and awful. Silently, Paul sobbed to himself. 


	4. I Want to Hold Your Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter is short!! My motivation ran out :')) I'm sorry but unless people really like this I wont continue the fic, so if you like it please comment! Give me something to write for :'D  
> I'm also gonna be working on a new fic based off of the show You soon so keep your eyes out 👀 ;))

The next day, tension was high. Brian figured it would be best for the boys to take some time off, he told them that spending so much time together was clearly unhealthy.

John did not want to return home to Cynthia and Julian. He couldn't let them see him like this: frail, weak, hurt. After what happened, he thought he may need a long time away from them. But he had nowhere else to go, so in the early hours of morning, he began to pack.

The sound of drawers being opened and suitcases being zipped and unzipped woke Paul. He sat up, stretching and yawning. His eyes were sore from crying, so he could only imagine how John felt. John. He should really check on John. 

Paul climbed out of bed, only in a worn t-shirt and his boxer briefs. He made his way to John's room, only knocking lightly on the door before entering. John was fumbling with his clothes and other belongings, as if he was in a hurry to leave. "Good morning", Paul managed to choke out. 

John looked up at the other man. "I'm leaving to go home", he said flatly, hands beginning to shake. He held back tears, and Paul saw. "Mm. No, no you aren't." Paul smirked. Was there anything wrong with having a little fun? And, he hoped he could mend their relationship a bit. 

"Excuse me? What the bloody hell do you mean?" John couldn't help the lurch in his stomach, the way his breath hitched as Paul said those words. "Let's go somewhere. Just us." 

《》

Things were quiet, at least they were at first. Both men seemed to be lost in their own heads, walking side by side in a place they didn't know. Small glances, tiny peeks from the corner of the eye, content with just being together. 

Of course, it was tense, but it wasn't as if they hadn't ever been like this before, simply enjoying eachothers presence. It was calming, and after everything, calming was quite needed. 

It wasn't until Paul's hand softly brushed against John's, causing John to make a small noise of surprise, that anything came from either of them. Quick glances, looks back down to the suddenly very interesting stone walkway, pink cheeks and hot ears. 

John reached for Paul's hand. After however long, neither man was paying any attention to that much, it felt as though their hands intertwined fit like pieces of a puzzle. Subconsciously, they were nearly melded together at the hip, walking so close together, arms brushing against eachother. 

"It's nice like this." Paul told John softly, squeezing his hand. John smiled, squeezing back. His mind had left the awful void of darkness and sadness, and for a while he forgot all his worries. Paul was like a drug; John got a taste and it left him feeling good and wanting more. 

The two could have spent hours wandering the streets of the city, just like this. Hell, they could spend their whole life like this. 

《》

Cynthia figured she should call into the boys hotel room- John had never called back, leaving her even more worried than she previously was. She almost felt overwhelmed thinking of all the things that could have gone wrong, get it together, she told herself. 

No one answered her call. She had to call Brian, something she never did, but with all her anxiety growing, she figured this was her last resort. The phone rang, almost long enough to end the call, before a very flustered sounding Brian answered. "Hello, who is this?" He sounded frantic, as if he was in worry as well. 

Cynthia explained how John had gone silent for nearly a week, and how awful she felt, how worried she was that something had happened to John. Brian sighed, "Cynthia. John attempted suicide." He paused for a moment, before connecting the dots. "Paul must have spared you the details, I told him he should tell you what happened."

Cynthia broke into tears. John had attempted suicide?! Why?!! Why didn't he call her?? Of course, she had no way of knowing that she was one of the reasons. "Brian!? Is he okay??" Tears steamed down her cheeks, causing her eye makeup to run. 

"Cynthia, I'm sorry, I'm not sure where he is right now. I will call you when I find out, but I have to go." And with that, the call ended.


End file.
